


The Rat Pack

by dimeadozen



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Brother Feels, Drake Brother Feels, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:48:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26270659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dimeadozen/pseuds/dimeadozen
Summary: The untold story of the meeting between Victor "Goddamn" Sullivan and Samuel Drake.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	The Rat Pack

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter takes place only an hour before the museum scene in Uncharted 3. Enjoy the Drake Brother feels!

The faulty air conditioner roars to life and immediately begins to rattle against the plaster wall. For five nights, Nathan listened to the maddening sound as his older brother heavily relied on the broken machine to cool off the cheap motel room. Nathan sits up from his prone position on one of the two twin beds in the room and looks at his brother, preparing for his heist at the room’s desk.

“Can I come?” Nathan asks innocently, inching towards the foot of the bed.

“Lemme think about it,” Sam starts, “no.”

“Come on, Sam. You know I’m a better lift than any of the guys that hire you.”

“Yeah, I do know that. I also know that you’re young,” Sam turns away from the desk to face Nathan. He can see the disappointment in his brother’s eyes, and that alone breaks his heart. Sam knew how much this meant to his little brother, although Sam couldn’t risk losing him to a lousy heist, a botched plan, or a vicious con man. Sam quickly learned that it’s not about what Nathan wants, it’s what he needs, and right now, Nathan needs to stay safe. “When you’re older you can--”

“I am older. Give me a chance; I’ll prove to you that I can do these kinds of jobs.”

There’s that word, the word that haunts Sam as much as it haunts his little brother. He sighs, moving to close the distance to his brother. He rests his hands upon Nate’s shoulders, softly squeezing each one affectionately. “Nathan, you’ve got nothing to prove to me, okay? I know who you are and what you can do. You’re meant for greatness. Just...not now. When the time comes--” Sam pauses when Nathan’s eyes turn away, though it doesn’t prevent him from continuing, “when the time comes, Nathan, you will rise to the occasion.”

“Yeah, I know. Maybe tomorrow?”

Sam chuckles and ruffles his brother’s hair, “Yeah, maybe tomorrow. Listen,” he pulls away from Nathan and returns to prepare, picking up his duffle bag tucked underneath the desk, and he sets it down on the table’s surface, “how about I get you something sweet to eat while I’m out?  _ Pan dulce _ ,  _ Cocadas _ ?” 

Nate shrugs in his response, “Yeah, sure; bring back some milk this time too. I hate eating sweets without milk.”

“You got it, little brother.” Nathan watches his brother rummage through his bag for a minute or so before Sam disappears into the restroom. 

For a moment, Nathan sits on the bed, listening to the other room’s running water. Once he knows Sam is taking his time, he pushes off into a stand and hurries to the bag. The pistol is the first thing Nathan sees on top of the equipment. He has never witness Sam carry a gun before, though he was aware Sam often brought knives for protection on his heists. Nathan carefully reaches into the bag and grabs the gun by its hilt. It’s much weightier than he expects, and it fits almost perfectly in his palm. Nathan closes an eye and turns to face the room’s balcony, his finger sliding across the slide before tucking against the trigger.

“Hey!”

Nathan jumps at his brother’s shout, his hand instinctively releasing the gun. He looks over to his older brother, reading his expression as scared and angry. “Sam, I--” immediately, Sam storms his way to Nathan, causing the younger of the two to take a small step back out of concern. 

“You will never touch this again!” Sam scolds and kneels to pick up the gun. “What if it had been loaded!? You could have brought the cops here if you fired it, or worse, hurt yourself!”

“Sam, I’m sorry, I am, I didn’t know,” Nathan stammers.

“What didn’t you know?”

“I’m sorry, I was just playing around.”

“No, you don’t  _ just play around _ with guns. People pick up guns to kill others, not to fool around.”

“So what, you’re going to kill people now, Sam!?”

Suddenly it’s spiraling out of his control, and Sam knows that his anger isn’t helping. Sam takes in a soft breath and allows his emotions to quell. “No, Nathan, I’m not going to kill anyone. This gun’s just for protection. If something goes wrong, I need to make sure I can protect myself so that I can get back to you in one piece.” Sam decides it’s best to hide the gun again. He carefully returns it into his bag, glancing at Nathan. He can see the hurt and the fear in Nathan’s eyes, and reflexively, Sam moves to Nathan to softly squeeze his shoulder. “Hey, I wasn’t mad at you, it gave me a fright, that’s all. Listen, if you’re worried about me and this job, don’t be. I don’t expect things to go wrong, but I’d like to be ready. Hey, Nathan, look at me.”

Nathan looks up to meet his brother’s eyes. He wasn’t all convinced by Sam’s words, though there wasn’t another soul on this Earth that he placed his trust in more than him; if anything, he owes it to Sam to listen to him. 

“There’s a museum here in the city. I’ve read on fliers that they’ve got this really nice exhibit about Sir Francis Drake.” Sam’s smirk grows when he witnesses Nathan’s eyes light up like Christmas. “Let’s go tomorrow and take a look at what we can pick up. Maybe we can find something about our dear great-granddad?”

Nathan nods his head, “Yeah, that sounds pretty cool. I can bring my notebook and sketch a little.”

“Speaking of which, do you mind stop drawing me in unfavorable conditions?”

“Sure, when you let me go on heists with you,” Nathan smugly grins.

Sam wraps his arm around Nathan’s neck, pulling him down into a headlock as his knuckles rub into Nathan’s crown. “Good try, Nathan Drake, but not good enough.” Nate immediately cries uncle to stop, and Sam complies, patting his little brother’s cheek. “I gotta go now, but I’ll be back before nightfall. Don’t do anything stupid, stay put, lock the door behind me, yada yada yada, you know the drill.” Sam picks up his duffle bag and heads to the front door. He grabs hold on the doorknob but stops to give Nathan one last look. “Tomorrow, Nathan, we will achieve greatness, so be ready.”

“Yeah,” Nathan replies, lifting a hand to wave. He waits until Sam closes the door to lock it and listens to his footfalls grow distant until they’re no longer heard. Nathan turns to face the balcony, stepping out to watch his older brother call a cab. 

One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi. Nathan hops up on the balcony railing and grabs onto the nearest drainage pipe. “Sorry, Sam, good ol’ Drake is calling my name, and I’ve got to answer it.” He knows his older brother will be more impressed than angry that he did a heist all by himself, and that is enough initiative alone to pursue this impromptu plan.


End file.
